Nothing but Blood Between Us Now
by JDPhoenix
Summary: "Some people are just born evil," she says and hopes one day it will make her feel better.


Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the MCU. I'm just taking the characters out for a spin.

* * *

><p>It's disturbingly easy to examine Koenig's body from a state of detachment. Perhaps all that's happened over the last few days is simply too much for her and she's reached her emotional breaking point. Perhaps she is so horrible a person that lack of familiarity with the man means she can view his corpse as simply a thing to be studied. Or perhaps what truly weighs on her mind is the identity of his murderer.<p>

"Ward did this," she says and cannot look at the others while she says it. Not Coulson, who personally brought Grant onto the team and trusted him with their well-being. Not Trip who considered Grant a friend and ally. And certainly not Fitz who … who is throwing things.

She should console him. Words are impossible after what she just said but she can at least offer the support of a hand on his shoulder… She pulls back before he sees her reaching. She's still wearing the examination gloves, red with Koenig's blood.

Coulson recovers first because he has to; he's in charge. They have to rescue Skye and abandon the base now that HYDRA knows its location. Which means they have to do as much as they can to prepare now for whatever might come next. Trip's tasked with refueling the Quinjet they took to Oregon and then loading her up with whatever of the base's weaponry he can. Jemma's likewise given the job of stocking them with medical supplies first and equipment second. Fitz won't be able to help her since he has to figure out where Ward and Skye have gone.

Coulson ends his orders with a long, lingering look at Koenig's body before tearing himself away and heading for who knows where. None of them are eager for what comes next - more fleeing, having to fight their once-friend - and it's only guilt that has Jemma following Coulson before either of the boys can move.

"Sir!" she calls once she reaches the hallway. She has to run to catch up, as he's already far ahead of her. He stops short at her yell but doesn't turn to face her fully.

"We've got a lot of work to do, Simmons, and not a lot of time to do it in. This had better be important."

"Not important per se," she says. Her hands twist, desperate for something firm to grasp onto. "Sir, I- Gra- _Ward_ and I-" Shame crawls up her throat and holds her tongue mute.

Coulson gives her a weak smile. "I know you were sleeping with him."

She feels she's been turned to stone by the words. It's all she can do to gape at him.

"And you don't have to worry. Ward's betrayal does not reflect on you in any way. He tricked all of us." His face crumples a little as he realizes just what he's said and he does for her what she couldn't for Fitz. His hand is heavy and awkward on her shoulder, but it is the sweetest thing he could do for her just now.

"Thank you, sir."

From behind her comes a yell. "The hard drive!"

Fitz and Trip run down the hall.

"We were talking," Fitz gasps, "and we think Ward might've come back for the hard drive. Skye encrypted it."

"And he seemed pretty eager to get her to _de_crypt it when he got back," Trip says.

Jemma doesn't know about that. He only mentioned it once that she heard and she was rather eager for it herself. Months of research and data are on that drive. It's irreplaceable.

Coulson's hand slips from her shoulder as he nods. "Skye's still the priority though. We're not losing anyone else." He locks eyes with Fitz. "Find them."

* * *

><p>It turns out to be easier than any of them thought to find Grant thanks to his little demolition show in an LA restaurant. There's not much for Jemma to do in regards to the rescue, save sit on her hands alongside Fitz. They waste time procuring rooms for the team, which is an enlightening experience on the sorts of establishments willing to accept large amounts of cash as payment. But that doesn't take very long at all and they're left sitting and waiting and worrying themselves to death.<p>

When Skye comes barreling through the door, it is quite a relief.

Hugs are had all around and for a very brief moment it's like the world hasn't turned against them. The moment ends when Jemma's eyes catch Coulson's. He is the only one not smiling. Her extremities go numb but no one seems to notice. Skye slips away from her grasp, caught up in regaling Fitz with her daring escape. Coulson's hand finds Jemma's shoulder again.

"He got away."

Of course he did. He's one of the best SHIELD ever had. Their last minute rescue attempt was lucky to succeed in that Skye's returned and no one suffered any serious injuries. He could have killed them all.

But he didn't.

There's a reason for that. He always has a reason for everything he does.

"Don't do that," Coulson says softly. The others have moved outside without her noticing and it's just them left. "Don't let yourself think he can be saved from this. You'll only be hurting yourself." He squeezes her shoulder. "Ward made his choice."

"Yes," she sighs, "he did."

It was silly and childish but she'd allowed herself to hope for more than the occasional quick shag. She can't help but look at the bed. He took her to a motel like this once, back when the whole team was grounded after Coulson's kidnapping and subsequent torture. In a dank, atrociously decorated room he told her he loved her. Maybe they could have had something real if all this ugliness had never come out. But would that be better? To have the life she wanted but have it be a lie?

It doesn't matter now. What's done is done. Choices, as Coulson said, have been made.

"The hard drive?" she asks, trying to put on a brave face. That's what's important here, not her own hurt feelings over a relationship that was never real to begin with. "Did he manage to get the files?"

"I'm afraid so."

She nods heavily and steps out from under his hand.

"Do the others know?" Coulson asks just as she reaches the door.

She's asked herself that a million times over the past few months. Sometimes she thought it must be utterly obvious and others she wondered if they weren't all rather naïve to be working for an intelligence organization if they couldn't spot what was going on between her and Grant. But, as it turns out, Coulson knew. Which likely means May did as well. And who knows about Skye and Fitz.

"I really have no idea, sir."

"You might want to think about telling them. When you're ready. Ward's a master manipulator; he'll try to use the connection to his advantage and it'll only be easier if it's something you're keeping from them."

She leans her head against the door, wishing she could close her eyes and go to sleep right here. "Not tonight though."

"No," he agrees. "Just something to think about."

As if she doesn't have enough to keep her mind occupied these days.

She finds the others clustered around the motel pool. They give her looks containing varying degrees of concern as she kicks off her shoes and joins them.

"Simmons," Skye says, half a question, half a beginning.

Coulson's shadow falls over them. "Strained a couple muscles during that fight," he says, sounding almost his usual, jovial self. "I'm not as young as I used to be, I'm afraid. Thanks for the help, Simmons."

"Anytime, sir," she says, sounding rather hollow.

Coulson retreats to his room for the night, leaving Jemma to confirm, several times, that he is _fine_. A change of subject is most definitely in order but she can't bear to follow Coulson's advice, to see the looks on their faces.

So instead she asks, "What happened?"

Skye brightens instantly and Jemma knows she's about to repeat the entire harrowing tale. She cuts in quickly.

"No. I mean _before_ Coulson arrived."

Skye's good humor falls away, making Jemma feel rather guilty, but she has to know.

"He's insane," Skye says. She tries to elaborate only to stop herself with a shake of her head and a disgusted look off into the distance. "I knew he was HYDRA. And I _told _him I knew. But he still kept it up. He had this stupid sob story about how you guys were in danger and needed something from the hard drive. '_You didn't hear Jemma._' Pfft! That's really what he said, trying to make me think he cared. I almost wish he'd tried to torture it out of me instead."

"You really don't," Trip says and offers her a bit of candy, presumably bought from the vending machines around the corner.

"I said, 'almost,'" Skye grouses but takes the candy all the same.

Trip then offers some to Fitz, who's either gotten over his issues in regards to Trip or is too tired to fuss. Jemma imagines it's the latter. When her turn comes, she declines. Skye's story has robbed her of what little appetite she had.

"Good news is," Trip says, taking another bite, "there's still a chance I'll get to kill Garrett."

"Yes, we were all _so_ sorry you didn't get your revenge," Fitz says dryly. "This makes it all better."

While the boys argue semantics, Skye wanders off, apparently done with conversation for the moment. Jemma can't blame her. It's been a hell of a day.

Jemma waits out the light-hearted argument, happy just to be in the presence of her friends for the moment. Trip eventually says something about partying by having a second bag of candy and leaves her and Fitz alone. It's not an easy silence, nothing can be easy today, but it's not uncomfortable either.

With the sun having set while they were talking and the broken pool lights, the water looks like tar around their feet. Jemma pulls hers out and hugs her knees to her chest.

"I still can't believe it," Fitz says finally. "He was our _friend_. How can someone just …" He shakes his head, unable to put it into words.

Jemma takes a deep breath. "Some people are just born evil," she says and hopes one day it will make her feel better. She stands and offers him a hand up. "Come on. Let's get to bed. We've got a long day ahead."

* * *

><p>It's nearly two o'clock in the morning when Jemma's phone vibrates on the nightstand. She's barely been sleeping at all and grabs it almost as soon as it starts up. A look to her right shows that Skye hasn't stirred. She's understandably exhausted after the day she's had. Not wanting to wake her, Jemma slips into her shoes and heads out the door. She's still in the same clothes she's been wearing since Portland, fearful of having to run in the night.<p>

When Skye erased their identities Jemma was relieved to be able to keep her phone as a lifeline to her parents. She didn't dare risk calling them amid all of this but it was comforting to know they could still reach her in an emergency. Now, seeing Fitz's caller ID on the screen, she's rather annoyed by the phone as it means he can avoid coming down the hall to actually speak to her in person.

"_Fitz_," she answers, sounding rather perturbed.

"He's a little tied up," Grant says.

Jemma's heart pounds in her chest - not entirely from shock - and the phone nearly slips from her fingers. She looks down the hall towards Fitz and Trip's room. Maybe, if she is very lucky, Fitz has just left his phone on the Bus. Still, she's not about to check without some reinforcements. She reaches for her door.

"_No_," Grant says. "You don't need to go back inside. You know where I am; I think we both know this is a conversation we need to have in person."

Her hand hovers over the doorknob and in response she hears a gun cock over the line.

It's barely twenty feet to the boys' room but it's the longest twenty feet of her life. Every step feels like one closer to the gallows. They might as well be. Despite their history, despite the way just hearing Grant's voice makes her blood thrum in her veins, she still knows there's very little chance he will let her leave that room alive.

The door falls open when she reaches it, giving her no chance to stall. Habit has her pocketing the phone when the call goes dead and she realizes her mistake when Grant's gun is the first thing she sees.

"No weapons," she says, holding her hands clear of her sides. "See?"

He lets out a harsh little laugh and waves her deeper into the room. "Close the door. Wouldn't want a draft getting in."

Fitz is, indeed, tied to the radiator beneath the window with duct tape over his mouth. When she enters he pulls at his bonds so hard she sees the veins on his arms stand out. It does him no good. Trip is on the floor between the beds, obviously having taken a beating.

"Had to knock him out," Grant explains while he pats her down. "I told him I just wanted to talk but for some reason he didn't believe me."

Fitz makes a series of noises that Jemma interprets as "can't imagine why."

Grant waves her toward the beds. She can see the order to sit work its way up his throat, only to catch at the last minute. Is he thinking of the last time they were in a room like this one, just the way she did? She hopes so. It won't save her life but it might make what they had a little more real.

"Stand against the wall," he says tightly.

"Grant," she tries.

"Now!"

She does as he says. He paces a little but keeps the gun pointed in her direction. Fitz tries to catch her eye but she ignores him. This is about her and Grant; Fitz is just an unfortunate bystander.

"I was so worried," Grant says. "I thought … But you know what I thought. _Exactly_ what you wanted me to think."

"I didn't-" There's a plea in her voice but he doesn't let her finish.

"It didn't even _occur_ to me, not until Coulson showed up. Alive. Unhurt. Obviously not in trouble in Portland. And it's _Coulson_, so of course he's gotta get the dig in - did you tell him, by the way? Or did he just figure out on his own that we were sleeping together?"

Fitz has gone painfully still but Jemma can't care about him, not when the venom in Ward's voice is burning through her.

"Both," she rasps out around the pain.

"Smart. Confess. Distance yourself from the traitor."

She takes a half-step forward. "Grant."

His gun comes up, pointed straight at her heart.

"You won't," she says with more strength than she feels.

"Because I love you?" He almost laughs the words but she can hear the way they tear from him.

She shakes her head, not in denial of his feelings but his meaning, and nods to Fitz. "You've kept him conscious for a reason."

Grant falls back a step. "Coulson told me you did the autopsy on Koenig. I guess he wanted to find out if it would _hurt me_."

"Did it?" she can't help but asking.

He looks at her like she's a stranger and she reaches back for the wall for support.

"And then I ask Fitz," he goes on, "and he tells me all the injuries point to me. The force of the blows, the height of the attacker … Were you standing on a box when you killed him or did you just lie?"

"Are you quite finished?" She ignores the way Fitz is staring. Either he believes Grant or is considering Skye's earlier words about his mental state.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Grant says with a complete lack of sincerity. "Did you want to explain why you framed me?"

She shrugs. "It had to be you."

"Really now?"

"I used a broken needle under my skin to manipulate the lie detector. Koenig caught me removing it before we left for Portland. He had to die. Skye apparently found his body and left us a message claiming you were HYDRA. Putting it off on someone else at that point would have been reckless." She thought about it though. She definitely thought about it. "But you were gone and I couldn't have you coming back and telling everyone that I'd been the one to call you away, begging for the hard drive to help us stop Daniels."

"That's what this is all about." It's not a question. "The hard drive. You called for it, trying to get us away before we found the body and when we didn't show in time, you had to risk coming back."

She doesn't bother responding to the unraveling of her hasty plan. "Months of research into …" She smiles a little at the thought of it all. Gravitonium. The Chitauri virus. The berserker staff. GH-325. "I couldn't just leave all that behind."

"For HYDRA."

"Yes. For HYDRA," she snaps. "It's not ideal. If I ever meet the idiot who decided to bring us out of the shadows, I'll have a sample of a particularly virulent disease for him. But it is what it is."

"No, it's not." He lowers the gun. Doesn't drop it, but lowering it is a good sign. "Jemma, you don't have to do this. Whatever they've got on you …"

She can see it in his eyes. He would walk right into the heart of HYDRA if it meant saving her from their control.

He just can't make this easy, can he?

"My grandfather was one of the founding members," she says.

It goes without saying that being born into HYDRA is a far cry from being manipulated into their ranks. She can actually see Grant's hope fall away.

"I'm sorry." He won't believe her but she _does_ mean it. She's meant every word she ever said to him, sad as that is. She really did want to keep him.

The gun is still down so she risks stepping closer. He doesn't stop her and she keeps moving until she's cupping his face between her hands. She's so much shorter than him that it's almost necessary for her body to press up against his.

"I'm so sorry, Grant."

He shakes her off, stepping out of her reach. "Get out. You're not getting the hard drive. Just … get out. You've got until someone wakes up and finds me here." That it's more than he believes she deserves is implicit in his tone. She doesn't bother to thank him. He still has the hard drive, after all.

She knows when she's lost though and that could be a very small window of escape. She doesn't look at Fitz as she makes for the door, not wanting to see what effect this conversation has had on him.

"And Jemma?" Grant calls when she reaches the door. "If I ever see you again, I'll kill you."

She smiles once she's outside. _If _is good. _If_ means he doesn't really want to but he feels it's his duty to cross off the viper he let get the better of him. An "if" can be turned around. And she'll certainly have the opportunity; she's still got a hard drive to get her hands on.


End file.
